


Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man from UNCLE
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya was good at thinking on his feet.  Now all he had to do was get his partner and the microfilm out of THRUSH's grips and not get catch doing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Watching:  it was what Illya did best, at least according to his superiors.  Illya had gained a reputation of cautiousness.  This always amused him slightly as he saw himself as rather impetuous.

They’d only been teamed up a month and Illya had already come to appreciate his partner’s abilities.  Solo was so astute, he was usually five moves ahead of the enemy.  Usually, but not this time.  This time Solo’s luck had petered out and it was only by the skin of their teeth they’d escaped at all.

Illya almost smiled.  It was normally Solo who came out of their assignments with his suit still neat, every hair carefully in place.  This time Illya, it would seem, was the lucky one.  Solo mumbled something and Illya went to him quickly.

“Shh, don’t make a sound.  THRUSH is all around us.” Solo’s face was pale and he was trembling. Illya placed a hand to Solo’s brow and frowned.  “The fever has started.  We need to get you to hospital.”

“The assignment --”

“The assignment is complete, with the exception of our expeditious escape.”

“You’ve got to leave me.”

“No.”

“Kuryakin, I’m your boss.” Solo broke off to cough.  “I’m ordering you.  Get that microfilm back to headquarters.”

“I will, but not at your expense.”

A noise drew his attention and a beam of light flashed in their direction.  The voices were still distant, but coming closer.  Their hideout had been spotted.  Illya reacted and reached, not for his weapon, but for Solo, pulling him into an intimate embrace.

“Trust me?” Illya murmured into his ear.

“Yes.” Solo’s voice was a mere whisper; he was too weak to do much more.

Illya grabbed him and kissed him firmly on the mouth, hungrily, as if Solo was a glass of water to a thirsty man.  He pulled away, staring at his partner in the face.  “Okay?”

“Okay.”  Napoleon made a halfhearted attempt to shrug his shoulders and Illya hastily peeled off his coat and tie.  He nearly ripped the buttons from his shirt as he hurried to get it off.  Solo was moving, but slowly.  Once Illya had his shirt off he helped Napoleon out of his and pulled their scattered clothes over them in an impromptu blanket and proceeded to make it appear as if they were having a sexual liaison.

He moved rhythmic, closed his eyes in a silent apology and pressed down on Solo’s injured leg.  The resulting noise, coupled with everything else, sounded just like he was climaxing.

“Get a room, you freaking perverts,” the THRUSH guard snapped.  “People like you make me sick.”

And he was gone and Illya sighed.  That was entirely too close for comfort and to his great relief, Solo had passed out again.  Illya smiled grimly as he reached for his shirt.  First time he’d had one swoon.

 

                                                                                ****

Illya was so engrossed in the report that the first indication that someone was in the room with him was something being tossed onto the desk in front of him.  Automatically, he went for his weapon and then checked himself at Napoleon’s grin.  In the month since their escape, they’d advanced to first names.

“You’re up.”  He nodded to Napoleon’s leg.

He held up a cane. “Limited mobility, but it beats the hell out of Medical.”

“What’s this?”

“Our report for Waverly.”

“I already filed this.”

“I am refiling it.  You left out some details.”

“I reported everything that was significant.”  Illya could feel his face coloring slightly.  So he’d taken advantage and acted upon his attraction to Napoleon.  He was a good looking man, why shouldn’t Illya exercise his options?  Of course, those options might just well end him up back in the USSR, but Illya didn’t care.  It had been worth it.

“That was very ingenious.  I probably wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Desperate times, desperate measures.”  Illya flipped open the cover and frowned.  “Why am I listed as lead agent?”

“As far as I’m concerned you were.  You got the microchip and me out, protected us and got us to safety.  All I did was be unconscious.”

“Which you did very well.”

“Flatterer.  So I figured it was only right that I do that and this.”  Napoleon gestured first to the folder and then to the door.

“What?”

“Dinner, my treat.”

“Really?”  Illya stood and reached for his jacket.  He never turned down a meal, free or otherwise.

“And then later, perhaps we can have a little discussion about certain escape techniques.”

“I don’t –“

“And a reenactment, at which time I will be fully conscious and fully capable of enjoying… if you’re willing.”

Illya smiled at him and met his gaze full on.  “Works for me.  After all, as you are fond of reminding me, you’re the boss.”


End file.
